


Perchance to Live

by deawrites



Category: Gotham (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content, Barebacking, Brain Damage, Crossover, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12258237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: Jim and Harvey are chasing a suspect (Holder) when things take a turn for the worst. A new life, a new time, can Jim find his way back to the person he was before?





	Perchance to Live

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I know that Jim's mom isn't a bitch. I changed it. I know Jim's dad's name is Peter. I changed it. I know that Benny Laffite from Supernatural is a vampire. I changed it. I'm sorry if this felt rushed, but I needed it off of my pinned documents.
> 
> Any and all comments, kudos, criticisms, requests and other welcome.
> 
> As always to my wife, who was as shocked as I was at Benny's appearance, but thought it worked out well anyway.

**Gordlock: Perchance to Live**

Three against one wasn’t fair; then again Life wasn’t fair, and neither was Gotham’s criminal element.  Jim was worried about Harvey; had lost sight of him because Jim was impatient and had barged into a bag drop hub without knowing exactly how many men were running it. Four turned out to be the answer. Harvey was still calling in for back up, or at the very most attempting to locate Jim’s whereabouts in the dilapidated warehouse. The forth man was not in Jim’s purview and he feared that he was on his way to intercept Harvey. Jim was going have to trust that Harvey could handle the single aggressor, but Jim Gordon was a man of little faith. Not in Harvey; his best friend he trusted and believed in implicitly and deemed him quite capable. What Jim doubted was odds that the criminal wouldn’t get the jump on his partner and Jim wouldn’t be there to aid him. All because he was impatient with a tangible hero complex.

 

Two men were down, Jim was rounding on the third when the lead pipe materialized out of nowhere and bounced off his skull. Jim dropped like a stone onto all fours, head spinning, teeth rattling, and everything around him slowing down to a crawl. There was a dark haze around his vision and he gasped for a breath, before falling to the debris ridden floor and succumbing to unconsciousness. His last thought was that he vaguely heard Harvey calling frantically for him. He wanted to answer yet his lips were fused together and no words formed. Jim was plunged into darkness and he felt as if he were falling, falling, ever downward. Next there were voices again. Voices; anxious and bordering on desperate. One; a man’s; kept apologizing repeatedly. There was a clanging and Jim’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of florescent lights above him.  “Oh, thank heavens!” He recognized the voice, Harriet was her name? He was fuzzy on why that sounded odd to him to know her name, yet he knew he was right. “Oh, Mr. Gordon, please just lie still.” She placed a folded towel beneath his head and her face came into view. She was prim sixty-plus years of age, impeccably groomed and put together with age appropriate make up, hairstyle, and professional business attire. “You’ve had a nasty fall.”

 

He had indeed. But it wasn’t a fall as much as a beat down and he wanted to tell Harriet that, yet it would worry her beyond reason.

 

“Yes, sir,” A man’s voice now; a stranger. “I should have warned you about the chord, or had a sign. I’m so sorry.”

 

“An apology is not going to stop a lawsuit if he’s injured, Mr. Larky.” Harriet snapped miffed at the contractor for standing there doing nothing to aid her in caring for Jim.  “Mark my words, if he’s been seriously hurt and the law firm doesn’t sue you, I will take you to court _myself_!”

 

That was Harriet; leave it to her to be both mother and protector whenever one of them were in trouble. Yet how did he know that about her personality? Recognize her tenacity by her tone alone? “Wait, stop.” Jim said struggling to sit up. Both Larky and Harriet helped him. The room spun for several seconds but his equilibrium leveled and his eyes stopped vibrating. He looked first into Larky’s face and then Harriet’s. “No one needs to sue anyone. I’m _fine_.”

 

“You took a nasty spill.”

 

“It’s all right Harriet, I’m not injured.” He sat for several seconds before moving to rise upon his feet, again with the aid of both the other people in the room. He straightened his suit jacket sleeves, momentarily shocked that he was wearing mother of pearl and gold cuff links. The suit itself was acutely tailored to his frame and the shirt so crisp yet soft; it was like a whisper upon his skin. Jim wet his lips and saw a hastily righted ladder and offending taught orange extension cord several feet behind him. His gaze searched the room, which looked like an interior lobby of its own. There was a receptionist by the door and the glass was painted with a logo and the words, ‘Gordon & Gordon Law’. Jim swallowed, paling a little as he read the sign several times. He realized Harriet was talking to him and he looked at her.

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“I said, why don’t you go back to your office and I’ll bring you some water and aspirin.”

 

Still a little stunned by the implication of the office name, Jim nodded in agreement and turned back around, carefully bypassed the electrical cord and ladder, before entering what he instinctively knew was his office.  The first thing that honed his attention was an overly large mahogany desk against a window that nearly spanned the wall behind it. The Gotham skyline loomed proud and sinister through the glass and Jim could not help but be hypnotized by it momentarily.  He was looking at the financial district in the distance; the wealthy elite portion of the city. That meant that he was on the outskirts of the high-priced offices and services the city offered.  The law offices of Gordon & Gordon were centrally located to be easy access to the rich as well as the working classes. Jim found the thought oddly comforting but it did little to relax him as he turned his back to the window and the cityscape beyond.

 

The second sight that drew his attention were framed photographs on the book cases, built into the adjacent wall. He immediately walked over to them and snatched one off the shelf. His father was standing, smiling, arm slung around Jim’s shoulders, both wearing tailored suits and holding up Jim’s framed law degree. The very same degree that hung prominently upon his office wall across from him, by the door of the private bathroom. Jim’s gaze however was riveted to the photograph. Jason Gordon was older than Jim recalled seeing him the days prior to his death. Jim had been eleven at the time; trapped in the over turned and totaled car with his dying father. A drunk driver had stolen Jim’s best friend in life and the man he considered his hero. The accident was something Jim had never come to terms with, his mother Nora and older brother Roger growing more distant from him every year, as Jim withdrew into himself and placed all his energies into excelling in all things he placed his hand to. He had served in the military with distinction and finally ended up as a decorated detective in the Gotham City Police Department. Yet somehow these truths rang false. Deep inside he knew there was another story unfolding within his skin that he couldn’t quite access yet, but it was blossoming.

 

His father looked so proud of him. Jim placed the picture back on the shelf a lump of grief and profound emotion abruptly lodged in his throat. He looked at another framed moment in time, this one a ski trip, where he was pictured with three other men he only vaguely recognized as friends. Another photo frame closer to the mahogany desk on the shelves suddenly galvanized his attention.  In it, Jim was pictured with a man standing beside him, arms carelessly slung over shoulders and backs. The man was cock quaveringly attractive, taller than Jim, broad shouldered with short cropped hair and a sculpted beard. He had piercing blue eyes and thick, large hands and Jim felt his heart beat speed up a upon looking at him. He turned the frame over in his hands and was about to snap the back open to see whatever he sensed was written on the back of the photography, when he heard a hauntingly familiar voice from the doorway, and a soft knock upon the door jam.

 

“Any survivors?”

 

Jim spun around, nearly dropping the frame as he turned to look into his father’s soft, blue eyes. Jim stuttered, lips parted, unintelligible words spilling from them as he offered a blinding smile in return.  “Dad?”

 

“Yes?” Jason Gordon asked stepping into the office and moving to where Jim stood. “I heard you took a header in the front office.”

 

“I, I’m fine.” Jim managed, finding his voice abruptly. He reached out with a hand and placed it upon Jason’s bicep, barely maintaining his joy and preventing himself from throwing his arms around his father to embrace him.  “I just tripped. Harriet made a bigger fuss over it then necessary.”

 

Jason smirked and nodded. “That’s our Harriet.” He took the picture from Jim’s nearly shaking grasp. “May I?” He turned the frame over to the picture, his smile deepening. “I’ve always liked this picture of you and Benny.” He looked up from the photograph and placed it upon the nearest shelf. “Almost as much as the one from your wedding, but you know that.”

 

Jim managed to withhold the gasp of surprise teetering just behind his lips. He glanced down at his left hand and saw the gold band set with diamonds ring he had not even felt seconds before. There was a callous on his hand just beneath the ring, only placed there after wearing the ring continuously.  Married? To a **man**? And Jason Gordon was _happy_ about it? Jim didn’t understand but he supposed he would soon learn all there was to know about both his father and his, ‘ _husband’_. Jim’s face reddened in embarrassment as he abruptly realized the implications his father was making. “I, I do,”

 

Jason cocked his head to one side and slowly took Jim’s hand off him, holding the hand within his own. “I’m thankful that you know how fortunate you are to find a man that loves you as completely as Benny does. You’re well suited.”

 

“Yes.” Jim surrendered inwardly freaking out about the words his father said. He squeezed his hand.

 

“He’s the fortunate one in your eyes, eh?” Jason teased releasing Jim’s hand and placing both hands upon Jim’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you, you know that, son.” He embraced Jim, and unable to help himself Jim hugged him in return, breathing in the scent of him; of a long-forgotten cologne; and reveled in the feel of the press of their cheeks together and the strength of his father’s embrace. Jim felt at immediate peace and held all the tighter. All too soon the hug severed and Jason was moving towards Jim’s desk.  “You didn’t happen to finish the papers for the Deveroux divorce case, did you? I need to get them filed.”

 

The answer spouted forth before Jim could even think. “Yes. I gave them to the newest paralegal to run to court before lunch.”

 

“Thank you, Jim.” Jason smiled at his son once more and tapped the desk with the fingertips of his right hand. “I’ll let you get back to the important work. Come find me before you leave the office today. And Jim? No more falling.”

 

“I’ll do my best not to.”

 

Jim spent the next fifteen minutes near frantic as he searched through his desk and computer files to find out just what his vocational life was like. He found more photographic evidence of his marriage to ‘Benny’ and trips he had taken, places he had gone locally with friends as well as his father. As far as his work case load went he had very few paying clients and it appeared that the lion’s share of his work was pro bono. He gathered that Jason Gordon handled the paying clients and Jim dedicated himself to the lower income or disenfranchised that required legal aid.  Jim sat back in the overly comfortable office chair and rubbed a hand down his face. While he knew all the pass words and where to find information in the computer and around the office, the one burning question he could not find the answer to was what the hell was going on? He felt like he was ‘ _Alice Through the Looking Glass’_ , and in this Wonderland Alice was a lawyer. A _married_ lawyer. Jim hopped that whatever recesses of his mind that recognized Harriet and passwords to critical records would also guide him when he was faced with his husband, Benny. And just where did they live? The address came to him sharply and Jim relaxed a little.  Then thought of facing the man utterly terrified him and his muscles clenched up all over again.  He needed clarity, he needed a touch stone, he needed some form of normalcy in the bastion of insane. Bazaro world or not, there was one vital thing he knew he must do to survive any of this: Find Harvey.

 

Jim rose quickly from the desk, halted as his head spun a little and he placed a hand to his temple and steadied his stance. Next, he grabbed his over coat off the hat rack near the door and stepped out into the lobby. Larky was gone and Harriet was directing a woman; whom Jim vaguely recognized as the paralegal he had mentioned to Jason earlier; in some regard.  Harriet immediately silenced the conversation and rose from her chair, pushing the other woman lightly out of her way with an arm as she stepped towards Jim.

 

“Mr. Gordon? I can send out for coffee if you like.” She motioned to his coat over his arm. “Your ten o’clock will be here presently.”

 

Jim recognized that she was trying to remind him of his work obligations without embarrassing him but now was not the time for inaction. “I don’t want coffee but yes, can you please reschedule my client for later this afternoon? Something urgent has come up.”

 

Harriet instantly looked worried. “Is it Mr. Laffite -Gordon?”

 

Jim’s thumb instinctively stroked the bottom of his wedding band and he realized that Laffite was his husband’s last name; apparently, they had hyphenated on their marriage license. “No, no. He’s fine. I just- there’s somewhere I need to be.” Without further explanation made his way to the office door while putting on his coat over his suit. He took the elevator down the sixty odd some floors to the building lobby and caught a cab. He didn’t want to waste his time with figuring out how he got to work, or find a car that he felt _technically_ didn’t belong to him. None of this life or the people in it currently did.  Whoever this version of Jim Gordon was, Jim hoped that the man whose life he had replaced wasn’t getting his ass handed to him in Jim’s life. He felt sorry for the poor bastard, but for now his sights were set on finding the one person that he could trust to help him; help him do what exactly he would figure out in time.  During the taxi ride to the precinct all Jim could think about was that Jason Gordon was **alive** in this reality.  He had forgotten his father’s smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, how broad it could be when he was truly happy. He knew that his father meant what he said about being proud of him, had felt it in the man’s embrace as well as witnessed it in his features. Jim wanted to be the one to make him feel that profoundly, but it wasn’t him; it was the Jim that lived in this Gotham, wherever it was. He felt a tinge of jealousy at that thought, childishly hoping that soon he would be the one that would place that smile of pride upon his father’s face. If he stayed here long enough to do so.

 

Jim didn’t want to ponder the how to’s and why’s of it just yet. He over paid the cab driver with the smallest bills he had in his wallet and stared up at the precinct building. For the first time since waking up on the floor he felt at home. Jim made his way inside to the shift sergeant’s reception desk and for an instant froze wondering if he should ask for detective or captain Bullock.  In the end he asked for detective, and swallowed before giving his own name. He was told harshly to ‘wait’ and pointed to a crowded seating area. Jim chose to stand nervous as ever because he realized in his rush to get to Harvey, he had no earthly clue what to say to him once they were together.  The instant Harvey stepped down the stairs into the lobby, Jim felt his heart beat increase and a sense of calm wash over him.  In a world that seemed crammed with fantasies of his longing mind, Harvey was the one certainty; the one reality among the dreams. Jim couldn’t help but beam at him.

 

“Which one of you asked to see me?” Harvey stood with his hands on his hips and glared at everyone in the seating area, bracing himself for whatever unfortunate or crazy person stepped forward. A homeless man attempted to get his attention but Harvey shot him down with a brisk dismissal and his gaze fell to Jim. “Is it you?”

 

Jim nodded in immediate response. “Yes. My name is Jim Gordon,” Jim wondered why he felt slightly breathless but disregarded the sensation as being overjoyed to see his friend. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

 

Harvey looked Jim up and his jaw set. “I’ve seen you in the papers, you’re a lawyer.” He accused, obvious distaste in his tone. “In my experience that always equates trouble. What do ya want?”

 

“Really Harvey,”

 

“ _Detective_ Bullock.” Harvey corrected interrupting.

 

Jim held up his hands in a placating gesture of apology. “ _Detective_ Bullock, it’s something that’s better served in private.”

 

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Did Tuttle put you up to this? Because if he did, that son of a,”

 

Annoyance flashed upon Jim’s features. “It wasn’t Tuttle, or Martine, or even Alvarez. This isn’t some prank detective; now can we please go to interrogation two and talk? I really need your undivided attention for the next five minutes.” Maybe less if Harvey threw him face first out of the room.

 

Harvey quickly schooled his surprise at Jim’s intimate knowledge of the GCPD personnel, but it could be easily explained away by the fact that Jim was a lawyer and could be a frequent visitor to any of the precincts. Not that Jim’s expensive clothing didn’t out him as the rich, pretty boy that he was. “All right. **Five** minutes.” He turned and walked away confident that Jim would follow. Jim did, just at Harvey’s right side and not behind him as was expected.

 

The bullpen was a welcomed sight, though it did little to calm the anxiousness gripping Jim’s stomach. He still didn’t know what he was going to say to Harvey; how he was going to explain. He did however note that on the mezzanine level Alvarez was seated at the desk designated as Jim’s; which signified that he was Harvey’s partner. The combination would work but Jim wondered if this version of Harvey was on the occasional take or not. The thoughts cleared from his mind as Harvey closed the door to the requested interview room. To stall for time Jim took off his over coat and placed it; folded in half; over the back of the closest chair.

 

Harvey sat down on the edge of the table and crossed his arms over his chest, before motioning to Jim to ‘get on with it already’.  Jim knew the intricacies of the man’s mind and he smirked just able to hear the bark in his tone.  Jim took a step closer to Harvey which put the detective on guard but set off the butterflies within Jim’s stomach, alerting him instantly that it wasn’t dread he felt but sexual desire. He swallowed.

 

“I realize that this is going to sound crazy but, I just **had** to meet you.” He searched Harvey’s light, green, gaze seeing skepticism there in addition to curiosity.  “It’s difficult to explain, but we know each other.”

 

“Look, Gordon?”

 

“Jim.” Jim corrected gently.

 

“Okay. Look, **Jim** ; not for nothing? But if we knew each other, I’d remember. First, you’re a lawyer which as a cop, is my natural enemy in most cases. Secondly, you’re obviously a man of the society pages and I don’t drink with that crowd. Lastly, look at you; you’re like half my age and _definitely_ several notches above me on the attractiveness scale. We,” He paused and drew a circle with a down turned pointer finger. “do not orbit the same circles.” Harvey paused and watched panic and then determination narrow Jim’s features. “So, I don’t know why you _think_ you had to meet me but, I really don’t have time to play ‘placate the lunatic’ today, alright?” Harvey stood up and Jim immediately placed a flattened palm against his chest, reassured by the solid weight of him. It was familiar and made Jim ache with sorrow that their friendship was not in tact in this world.

 

“I’m not crazy, and we do know each other. Just not,” Jim paused and motioned between them with his opposite hand. “ _here_. Look, this is weird for me too, but if we could just,” Jim paused and faltered, his gaze pleading with Harvey’s for several seconds of silence. “Meet me for a drink. I have some A.H. Hirsch Reserve with your name on it and we can talk outside of the whole cop and lawyer thing. Just two men having some quality whiskey and talking.”

 

Harvey was suspicious but his interest was piqued; and his thirst tantalized by the offer of $6,000 whiskey. Silence seemed to stretch as Harvey considered Jim’s words, and noted the ring on his left ring finger, as well as the fact that he hadn’t removed his hand from his chest. Abruptly realizing that he was still touching him, Jim uttered a hushed apology and withdrew his hand.  Bad decision reached, Harvey pointed at Jim.  “In public, one drink, any more, and you buy all the rounds.”

 

Jim grinned. “Deal.” He reached into his suit inner pocket and withdrew a business card. He read it quickly before flipping it over and taking out a pen from the pocket as well. He wrote his cell number on the back of the card and handed it to Harvey. “O’Leary’s at five, sound alright?”

 

It was a cop bar; the one that Jim and Harvey frequented when they met for drinks outside of their respective apartments. Surprise then disappointment carved Harvey’s features. “It’s fine, but I can tell you right now they don’t have Hirsch Reserve on the shelf.”

 

Jim grinned. “I didn’t say I’d be buying it there, now did I?” He watched Harvey’s expression relax a little. “I’ll bring you a bottle, I promise.”

 

Harvey nodded with an affirmative grunt and pocketed Jim’s card. They exchanged pleasantries, farewells, and reluctantly Jim left. He didn’t want to leave the precinct and even more so Harvey’s side. Morose and anxious, Jim returned to his office. Jim kept a strict watch on the time, willing it to fly by until he could be reunited with Harvey.

 

The day ached to a crawl and Jim found himself attempting; and failing; to submerse himself in his work. He ran on pure instinct and didn’t make any monumentally embarrassing gaffs. He found that when he surrendered to the moment, he was able to navigate this other Jim’s life successfully.  While he didn’t like what that fact implied, he knew that for now he was stuck where he was and at some point, would just have to give over enough to survive the day. He managed to dodge a couple of calls from Benny on his cell, but a quarter of four, Harriet buzzed him on the intercom and sternly told him that ‘Mr. Laffite- **Gordon’** was holding on line two. Harriet was not about to allow him to get away with hiding from the inevitable; Jim had to admire her sense of fair play, even still; he had to give props to Benny for getting results by employing her mother hen nature.

 

Jim wet his lips before picking up the hand set, anxious as hell wondering what type of disposition he would find on the opposite end of the conversation.

 

“Benny.” Jim hoped the greeting sounded pleasant and eased.

 

“Jim.” Benny’s voice was smooth, rich and had a lazy Louisiana draw to it. One that pooled at the base of Jim’s spinal column and washed over him like a gentle wave, and semi-hardened his cock. The unexpected reaction had Jim swallowing and squirming in his seat, heart beat racing and words babbling.

 

“I know I missed a couple of calls. I’m sorry but today has been crazy for me and, I realize I should have at least texted but; I’m just, _sorry_.”

 

Benny laughed softly and Jim felt his cock harden the rest of the way.  “I forgive you Mon Amour.” Jim swallowed as the term of endearment rolled over him in another wave of affection and lust. “I just wanted to let you know that I picked up Chugger so you don’t need to worry about it, and can just come on home.”

 

Chugger; their pit bull rescue dog. Jim recalled seeing it in some of the photographs on the hard drive of the computer, but hadn’t paid it much heed as he was more interested in identifying the people. Digging at his memoires Jim instantly realized that Chugger had been at the vet having been boarded there because his owners had been out of town for a four-day weekend. The dog however wasn’t an issue; Harvey was.

 

“Uh, thanks. I appreciate you doing that but, I actually have a client to meet after work. I realize it’s short notice but I just couldn’t say no.”

 

“You never can.” Jim could hear the smile in Benny’s voice and the soft rumble of it made Jim legitimately regret not going straight home after work.  “I’d say I’ll keep dinner warm for you but I don’t want the fish to dry out. We’ll just have to warm it up when you get home. Where is the meeting?”

 

Jim was defensive until he understood that Benny was just asking out of curiosity and not with any intention of following Jim there. “O’Leary’s. It’s a cop bar on Euclid and 45th.”

 

Benny’s brow furrowed. “Don’t the police have union legal representation?”

 

“Yes, but; the situation is a bit on the delicate side and they’d rather go through a civilian firm. I haven’t agreed to anything past a sit down so, it could be nothing.”

 

“It never is with you Mon Cher. It never is.” Jim could hear the obvious smile in Benny’s voice, and abruptly discovered that he was smiling in return.

 

“I can’t help that I’m a magnet for the complex.”

 

“That you are. Do you know what time I can expect you home?”

 

Late; whenever he went out with Harvey most times he went home with him to crash on his couch at some ridiculously, stupid time in the morning. As much as he would like to do so here, he knew that he couldn’t get away with it, so he settled for; “Late, but I’ll text you when I leave. How’s that sound?”

 

“Like I’ve got a long evening of missing you until your home.” Jim heard the jingle of dog tags and panting before Benny continued. “Chug agrees.”

 

Jim’s smile intensified. “I’m sorry, but you’re both going to have to console one another. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

 

“That promise is good enough for me.” Benny allowed. “I love you. Be safe.”

 

“Always.” The word slipped easily from his lips as well as the accompanying, “I love you too.” The guilt hit him next as call severed and he clutched the handset with white knuckles. He drew in a painful breath and set the handset back in its cradle and wished that he didn’t have to lie to Benny; it wasn’t the other man’s fault that Jim wasn’t the man he married. Jim shifted in the desk chair, his cock uncomfortable in the tailored trousers he was wearing. Obviously, there was enough of this world’s Jim inside of him to illicit responses, but there was the issue of a marriage to consider: in all its aspects. Ultimately Jim would be lying every time he talked; or god forbid; touched Benny.  It was too much to think about so Jim pushed the thoughts aside and attempted to concentrate upon his work.  Two minutes after the conversation ended, Harriet walked into his office with a smile and some letters that required his signature. She had played her part well, and was obviously pleased that all was right in the world of her two boys. Jim granted her a grateful smile and was thankful she couldn’t see his hard on.

 

By the time the end of the work day rolled around and Jim was pulling on his coat, he was so excited at the prospect of seeing Harvey again that he almost walked straight into his father.

 

“Dad!”

 

“Son!” Jason teased in response at Jim’s surprise. He placed a hand upon Jim’s right bicep. “Anxious to get home, are you?” Jim was about to explain that he was indeed going out instead but his father continued. “I won’t keep you long. I need to talk to you about something. Why don’t you come on into my office?”  Helpless to refuse him, Jim agreed and followed Jason across the room to the door directly across from his own.

 

Jason Gordon’s office was much more decadent, and larger; than Jim’s. It was to be expected as he entertained the expensive clientele of the father and son firm. Jason motioned for Jim to be seated in the parlor area and moved to the small wet bar. He picked up a crystal glass and showed it to Jim, who shook his head in indication and Jason poured some bourbon for himself. Once he did so, he crossed to where Jim was and sat down opposite him. Jim watched for several seconds as his father took a sip of the liquor before addressing him.

 

“Your mother has been gone a long while now.” Jason paused and glanced into his glass, swirling the liquid around the inside before looking at Jim once more. “I’ve always been rather conservative with my dating while you were growing up, but now; things have changed.” Jim shifted wondering why this felt uncomfortable to him. How many nights had he spent wishing that his mother would find someone to make her happy? Endured aching for it to be that she was dead and Jason alive; as he was now? Yet somehow the thought of his father with someone other than Nora Gordon felt foreign to him.

 

“I’ve been with Diane for some time now and, I’d like to ask her to marry me.”

 

Diane? Jim wracked his brain and realized that the only Diane he knew of was his mother’s cousin. Could it be that Jason Gordon was once again going to marry into Nora’s family? “Shouldn’t you be asking her then?”

 

Jason chuckled and leaned out to hand Jim the glass of bourbon. Reflexively Jim took it from him. “I have; she agreed and I wanted to tell you before the announcements were sent out.”

 

“Dad, I appreciate that and all but- all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. To be loved. I think it’s wonderful you have that in Diane. Congratulations; really.” Jim set the glass down upon the coffee table untouched; and rose along with his father. Both males moved around the edge of the coffee table and embraced. Jim was unable to pass up the opportunity to place a kiss upon his father’s cheek and utter that he loved him; Jason returned the gesture and they held one another for a long time.  Once the embrace severed Jason offered to call a car to take them home, but Jim politely declined. He had a meeting with Harvey he was not about to miss.

 

Harvey knew he was walking into a situation oozing with crazy; but there was something about Jim that intrigued him. Perhaps he was such a lush that the offer of beyond top shelf whiskey had his mouth salivating and his body shaking for it. Or maybe; just maybe; the area on his chest where Jim had placed his hand was still warm, his flesh tingling. Yes, Harvey was a little hard up for sexual partners at the moment. His funds were on the low side so he had to take whatever and whomever fell into his path. But Jim Laffite-Gordon? The man was ten on a bad day, rich; and _married_ to an old Louisiana Family, who’s favorite son; Benjamin; just happened to train with champion boxers and MMA athletes. These were the beautiful people of the society pages and Harvey?

 

Harvey was a hard fifty-two and just slightly over weight on his good days. He could brawl but not for long; and he didn’t have an education that exceeded high school. He was a cop; a blue collar nobody with no savings account or future beyond drinking himself to death. So, if Jim wasn’t interested in slumming it with an unkempt, emotional mess of a man; then just what was he playing at? Jim had said that he ‘ _had’_ to meet him, but for what purpose? Why had Jim latched onto him, and better yet; _why_ was Harvey encouraging it? Because Jim seemed to have intimate knowledge of the GCPD and some of its staff? Because Jim was pretty with a muscular body and sinfully long eyelashes? Because he had the bluest eyes that Harvey had ever seen? Those eyes…

 

All disbelief aside, Harvey couldn’t deny that he was drawn to Jim. Could not refuse him because his body responded and his heart; His heart sped up just at the thought of meeting Jim at the bar. There had been something profound, some ache in Jim’s soul that poured out of his eyes when he pleaded with Harvey. There was a raw need of Harvey’s own that wanted to wrap himself around Jim and protect him; soothe him. Yes, they were from two different worlds but there was something that somehow connected them. If he couldn’t ferret out the hooks they had in one another by nights end then he would have to surrender and follow Jim’s lead. Follow Harvey did: right to O’Leary’s at five sharp, finding Jim seated in a booth in the back of the room looking as movie star crisp as if he had stepped out of the Gotham Gazette and into Harvey’s pathetic excuse of a life.

 

Jim’s entire face lit up at the sight of Harvey and the younger male stood, looked like he was about to embrace him, thought better of it and shook his hand instead.  Harvey sat down across from him and took off his coat and hat, placing both upon the seat next to him. A barmaid appeared to take their drink orders and Jim ordered a beer while Harvey asked for the same yet with a whiskey chaser. Once she had left their table Harvey wasted no time getting down to brass tacks.

 

“Let’s see it.”

 

Jim’s grin softened yet remained just as intense. He lifted his coat a little on the bench beside him and handed Harvey the sealed bottle. “It was easier to carry in this way.” He spoke of having taken the whiskey out of its original packaging. Harvey made to hand the expensive liquor back when Jim shook his head and held out a hand. “It’s yours. As promised.”

 

Harvey stared at him for long seconds deciding something before squirreling the bottle away beneath his leather coat. “All right, so it’s a big favor you want. _How_ big?”

 

Stunned Jim stared at Harvey. “Wait, what? No, that isn’t a bribe. It’s a gift.”

 

“And?” Harvey motioned for Jim to continue. “This ain’t about clearing some parking tickets. Not a ‘ _gift’_ like this.”

 

“God, Harvey; no. It’s not a bribe, it’s not that type of “ _gift_ ”, all it is, is a tool for me to introduce myself to you. To show you that I meant what I said about getting to know you. Well, more enticing you to get to know **me**.”

 

Harvey’s expression hardened. “So, you’re a stalker?”

 

“No. Not at all. I just,” Jim faltered and struggled for the appropriate wording. He was terrible at this; verbally explaining his most inner thoughts and feelings. It prevented him from having lasting relationships past what he shared with Harvey in his own world. Helpless, Jim’s gaze pleaded. “I **need** you in my life.  I can’t explain it right, but compulsion aside, we could be the best of friends, something _deeper_. All I know is that living through one single hour without knowing you have my back is killing me. I _need_ you.”

 

Harvey absorbed all he had been told and an unpleasant grin curved his lips. “Now I know, this is bullshit. I’m being punked. Because in the history of the world; _nobody_ who looks like you, has ever given anyone who looks like _me,_ the time of day unless copious amounts of money is involved.” Harvey shook his head. “I ain’t biting. I’m a cop. That may not mean much in this town but it means I’m smart enough to know a set up when I see one. Uh, ah; sorry. You chose the wrong guy to latch on too with your brand of crazy.” Harvey reached for his hat and perched it on his head. “But I will take the whiskey for my pain and suffering rendered. And as a lesson to you to not do,” He pointed pack and forth between the two of them. “whatever _this_ is, to anyone **ever** again.”

 

Harvey was reaching for his coat and the bottle next, when Jim rose partially from the booth seat and grabbed the older man’s wrist, his voice and expression begging. “Please Harvey! Sit down and just give me the benefit of the doubt for ten minutes. That’s all I ask; just sit with me and talk.”

 

Harvey looked from Jim’s hand upon his wrist to the younger male’s deep, blue eyes. “Maybe I don’t wanna _talk_.” He challenged more bluff than seriousness; Jim couldn’t read the difference because the words were delivered with clear hostility and skepticism. “If you say we’re ‘meant to be’ friends or ‘something more’, then **prove** it.  Let’s see you spread out, naked on my bed, and go from there.”

 

“That’s sexual extortion.”

 

“So? You’re the one that wants ten minutes of my valuable time.”

 

Jim felt his stomach drop and blood rush at the mere thought of surrendering to Harvey’s unexpected demands. Would it be so bad to give in to temptation just once? After all, this wasn’t _his_ Harvey; not really. If things didn’t pan out he could always walk away; and back into this world’s Jim’s life. Guilt burst reality from the tantalizing fantasy scenario and Jim frowned.

 

Havery nodded and pulled his wrist from Jim’s grip and grabbed up his coat and liquor bottle. “That’s what I figured.”

 

“All right!” Jim heard himself say, a little more breathlessly than propriety should permit. “You have a point, Maybe, doing this will prove to you what I’ve been trying to tell you in inadequate words.”

 

Harvey stared at Jim for several tense seconds then burst into anguished laughter. “Are you fucking _nuts_ , kid?” He motioned to Jim’s left hand. “I’m not the kind of man that tramples all over someone else’s ‘I do’s’ cavalierly. I respect the institution of marriage.”

 

“I know that; even if you do have two failed attempts in your own life: Pamela and Doreen.” Jim blurted in desperation.

 

Harvey sneered. “Public knowledge.”

 

“Is it public knowledge that you were too young for marriage when you wed Pamela? And too naive to see what a control freak Doreen was, quote: ‘straight outta the gate’? You told me she was, ‘too much woman for you, and you weren’t talking in the bedroom. She wanted you to be docile and all but disappeared in the relationship, and you couldn’t live that way. She didn’t break your heart, you said she ‘tried to eat it’.” Jim watched recognition of Harvey’s own words light up behind his eyes.  “I’m telling you, Harvey; where I come from we were on a stake out when you admitted those things to me. You weren’t looking for sympathy but you were trying to make me feel better about my own failed engagements. You told me because you were being the best friend I’ve ever had, who cared about me enough to lay himself bare. So, if I have to break a marriage vow to convince you of that, then so be it. I’ll face the consequences gladly. You’re worth it to me and always will be.”

 

Harvey blinked at Jim for a few silent seconds then sat back down on the bench seat, taking his hat off and setting it down upon his coat. He watched as Jim sat too, and for several seconds neither of them said anything.  “First off, I would **never** force myself on someone. You’re either into it, or I walk away.” Jim’s lips parted and Harvey held up a hand of warning. “Secondly, I wouldn’t even tell my _family_ about Doreen, let alone a stranger. Third, I don’t have a best friend. You’re not even a cop but a lawyer; so why would you be on a stakeout with me? And lastly, you _do_ know how fucking **insane** you sound to me right now, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah.” Jim assured leaning forward to make certain the remainder of the conversation was as private as it could be. “I was literally knocked out in one life, and awoke on the floor of an entirely different one. I have an inkling of insanity all right?”

 

Harvey downed his whiskey chaser and held Jim’s gaze. “See, now that; that right there; is something you should have led with.” He shook his head and took a sip of his beer next. “Why don’t you try explaining what you mean by all of that, and then we’ll get from there to Doreen.”  Grateful that Harvey was now giving him the benefit of the doubt, Jim smiled and did as he was asked.

 

He began with the case because that was something that sounded logical in a moment when nothing made sense to Jim. Harvey helped; just sitting there, seeing his face and talking at him was enough to calm his frayed nerves. He informed Harvey of the details of the case, victim, witness statements, leads and theories. He then explained how the two of them had attempted to bring a suspect in for questioning, when the guy ran. Jim gave chase and found himself on the wrong end of the suspect’s friend and a lead pipe to the forehead. Jim then recounted coming too on the carpet of the Gordon & Gordon law firm with Harriet and a maintenance man hovering over him. He further revealed how he discovered his long dead father was alive, and that he himself had finally made it down the aisle. No less to a man, which had surprised Jim just slightly less than finding out his father wasn’t dead.

 

“You sound like a fricken cartoon.” Harvey groused. “Maybe I should smack you in the melon and you’ll end up being the other Harvey’s problem.”

 

Long suffering Jim rolled his eyes to Harvey, having been lulled into a false sense that all Harvey’s were **his** one, _true_ Harvey.  “This isn’t a game Bullock. I’m not some lunatic, and this is exactly what happened. I don’t have the science to explain how or why, I just have to accept that it **is** and try to make the best of my life here until I can find a way back.”

 

“If you even can.” Harvey leaned forward and poured a little bit of the A.H. Hirsch into their now empty beer mugs and quickly placed the bottle back underneath his leather coat.  “Look it, I’m no science guy either, but this does sound more mental than quantum physics to me. I occasionally read, okay pretty boy. Don’t give me that look.”

 

“That’s not why I was looking at you.” Jim revealed in annoyance. I’m **not** crazy and I’m telling you the _truth_.”

 

Harvey made a grand gesture of skeptical acceptance and reached for his beer glass. Upon taking a sip of it his eyes rolled back in his head and he made an appreciative noise that had Jim squirming slightly. He looked at Jim. “This right here, is mother’s milk of the virgin Mary herself.” He moved to take another sip. “Holy fuck that’s good!”

 

Jim reached forward and pushed down upon Harvey’s wrist preventing him from taking a sip. “Yeah, and could you please keep that down? You’re attracting some attention.”

 

“Which is okay for you but not for me?” Harvey shook his head. “Hypocritical bastard.” He tugged his wrist out from beneath Jim’s grip, took another sip of the whiskey and silently swallowed. He set the glass back down upon the table, pushing the newly ordered tumbler of Jack Daniels out of his reach.  “Nothing will ever be the same.” He met Jim’s stare. “And now to your problem. Which I can do what about exactly? Be your _friend_? Is that the take away here?”

 

Grousing internally Jim pursed his lips and straightened in his seat. “Yes. I suppose that is the crux of the matter.”

 

“Uh huh.” Harvey smirked none too kindly. “That benefits me how? I mean, taking time out of my busy schedule just to play buddy/buddy with you doesn’t seem all that relevant to me.”

 

“Once you start it will be.” Jim promised with more bravado than he currently felt. Maybe Harvey was right; perhaps this was one big mistake in a long lineage of them. Yet the thought of life without Harvey in it was far too much for Jim to bear. He needed his haven in the chaos and that had always been steadfast and loyal Harvey Bullock.  “You have a ton of acquaintances but few true friends. I can be that for you; the truest and best you’ve ever had.”

 

Harvey’s hands rest on either side of the beer mug. “As I said before, what if I don’t **want** to be _friends_?”

 

“Then do it for strictly humanitarian reasons then. Look at it as a way to help a fellow man.”

 

Harvey considered Jim’s words. “I’m not feeling all that charitable. You sound crazy Jim; like a stalker. And I don’t **do** dangerous.”

 

Exasperation got the better of Jim and he blurted, “I would **never** hurt you! Please Harvey, we can take it at your pace; just _please_. Give me a chance?”

 

Harvey took another sip of fine whiskey and studied Jim’s features. The man was falling apart right before his eyes. He looked so sincere, so lost and desperate for approval of any kind from Harvey. What if the impossible things he said were true? The thoughts about Doreen had been implicitly private and he had never spoken to anyone about them; not even in a drunken stupor to his whores when he was begging to be loved.  If Jim knew those things, Harvey wondered what else he might have roaming around within his head information wise.  Instinct was telling him to surrender, while his inner hardened cynic was warning him to run.

 

In the end Harvey drained the last bit of whiskey out of his mug and drank Jim’s, before they both rose and put on their coats. Harvey was not about to take a complete stranger; to him at least; to his apartment and Jim knew damned well he couldn’t take the man to his home either. He settled on the deserted law office and sat comfortably on the plush couch in the sitting area while Harvey poured a little more A.H. Hirsch into a crystal glass.  For now, Jim sat across from Harvey, though he longed to sit on the short couch with him by his side. At the very least he had Harvey willing to spend time with him so that was a formidable win enough for one night.

 

“So, you know allot about me. What say you even the playing field a little?” Harvey asked casually and Jim smirked.

 

Jim spent the next two hours explaining his life in the reality he knew and spoke of the relationship he shared with his Harvey. Every once and a while Jim would announce some event or perception he received of his current time line, and would listen considering the reveals just like Harvey. Although Harvey’s attention span vacillated between Jim’s statements and the smooth flavor of the expensive whiskey, to his credit he didn’t become drunk; but rather was relaxed and enjoyed himself immensely.

 

“I think my doppelganger has his hands fully with _you_.” Harvey announced pointing a finger at Jim. “So, do you just bat your eyes at him and he does whatever you say too?”

 

Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“Don’t play stupid Lawyer Boy.” Harvey sneered in warning. “I’ve been sitting here listening to you talk and two things are very clear to me. One,” Harvey placed the crystal glass down upon the end table beside him and counted on his fingers. “you’re dependent as hell on that Harvey. And for some reason you can’t see the forest for the trees. Second,” Harvey paused smiled at Jim. “ _That_ me? Is so in love with you he **worships** the ground you walk on, and you can’t even see your way clear to thank him.” Harvey shook his head in disappointment and lowered his hands to his lap. “That’s shitty, Jim. Really a shit way to treat someone you _supposedly_ can’t stand another minute of ‘not having at your back’.” Harvey then placed his hands upon either arm of the chair. “You’re a selfish son of a bitch and I’m not so sure I should talk to you anymore. Unless you promise me right now not to treat me like you do that other poor shlub of a me.” Harvey nodded. “In fact, promise or I walk right now.”

 

Jim moved quickly to the edge of the chair prepared to physically stop Harvey from leaving if necessary. He moved out of fear and desperation, not anger. “Wait, okay; you’re right. I take my Harvey for granted and I shouldn’t. I’m sorry. I promise to apologize to him the instant I get back to my world; if I ever do. But you’re also right about you two not being the same man. I know I have no right to ask you too; but _please_ ; give me a chance. I can promise you that I will make every effort to treat you the way in which you deserve.”

 

Skepticism honed Harvey’s gaze. “Is that lawyer speak for, ‘ _shitty’_?”

 

“No. It’s honest speak for, ‘ _I won’t treat you badly or take you for granted’_.”

 

Harvey considered Jim for silent seconds and picked up the crystal tumbler. He took a sip of whiskey and contemplated Jim’s words still longer before conceding, “Alright. You get **one** chance. Blow it, and I walk.”

 

“I understand. Thank you, Harvey.” Relief swelled within Jim’s chest and he sat back in his own chair finally. They sat for another half hour talking, and ended the evening on a friendly note and a promise to meet for breakfast the following day. Place and time set, Jim let Harvey out of the office and walked him down to the parking structure where Harvey agreed to give Jim a ride home. Jim was suspicious at first, but Harvey was not dead drunk and after a slight argument, Jim drove Harvey home and took a cab to his own house from there. He paid the fare and stood on the sidewalk for long moments before entering the brownstone home. He could do this; he had Harvey on his side and whenever he needed to access vital information it always came to him: eventually; but it rose and for that Jim was thankful.

 

Immediately a brindle coated Pitbull came racing into the entry way to greet him, all tail wags and licking tongue, it’s entire body quivering with joy. Without fear Jim greeted the dog back, patting it before scratching it behind the ears. He got his hand and wrist licked for his troubles and whined at as the animal hunkered a little in submissiveness.

 

“Well don’t you two make a pretty picture?” Jim looked up to see Benny; his husband he was reminded; leaning one shoulder against the formal living room arch way, his hands in his pockets, wearing a smile and piercing blue gaze sparkling. Jim swallowed and felt his body respond abruptly to the weight of Benny’s gaze. The photographs hadn’t prepared him fully for the real person, as they failed to capture Benny’s enormous presence in the room. Jim stuttered a smile at the other male. He still said nothing as Benny pushed away from the archway and took his hands out of his pockets. “You gonna scratch my belly too, Mon Cher?”  Benny’s smile was easy and Jim felt his knees weaken.

 

“Uh, y-yeah. I could give you a pass or two.” His voice sounded rougher than it should, excited; while Benny’s was smoother than the whiskey he had given Harvey. Remembering Harvey, Jim’s cheeks reddened and he straightened his spine as Benny reached him.

 

“Mmm. Well then lovely one, get to scratchin’.” Benny’s hands pressed inside of Jim’s coat, burrowing until they slid upon his hips to embrace him, and Jim surrendered feeling the heat of Benny’s mouth devour his own, slow and sensual.  Jim found himself leaning into the solid body of the man that was five inches taller than him, and his own arms embrace Benny seemingly of their own accord. The kiss progressed and Jim felt himself harden against Benny’s leg and he was too lost in the kiss to care if he were rubbing against the other man like a dog in a rut. One large hand gripped an ass cheek and the opposite rested upon the small of his back as a thick thigh pressed between Jim’s legs giving him the friction he was rabidly seeking.  “Upstairs Amour?”

 

“Yes.” Jim moaned, whispered, even _begged_ as he elected to surrender to the impulses of his body and just go with the moment.  While he had never had sex with a man before in his world, he knew Benny would willingly show him the way and his doppelganger’s memory would fill in the blanks. It had been ages since Jim was so mindless with desire and he was not about to waste the opportunity that had presented itself.

 

Benny’s arms were now locked around Jim’s lower back and he lifted him a little off the ground and walked the both of them to the foot of the stairs. Their mouths locked in a fevered kiss. Jim ground against his husband and Benny allowed it, cupping Jim’s ass and moaning within the kiss. The rumble of it in his chest sent a thrill down Jim’s spine. He could feel himself leaking precum and wetting his trousers and underclothing with need. They parted long enough to climb the stair case, but the moment they were on the top landing they were connected again in an impassioned kiss. Clothes were shed as they wound their way to the master bedroom, Jim surprised but secretly intrigued to discover that Benny had some tattoos. His frame was like that of their dog, powerful; compact and both in obvious measure. Jim’s hands were everywhere at once, as shamelessly he bit at Benny’s chest above one nipple, the hair on the other man’s torso scratching against his face. Jim moaned wantonly and gazed up into Benny’s piercing eyes and whispered, “Fuck me,” before they were lost in another kiss.

 

Sensation upon wave of sensation consumed Jim and he dove in head first into the waters. Everything he wanted to do, he permitted himself to do without judgement or fear. There was a moment when he was staring into Benny’s eyes that he thought he saw a shred of doubt flash there, but he covered it by quickly kissing him and tightening his rectum around Benny’s thick and ample cock. Tonight, he was pretending to be Benny’s Jim and there was no room for anything but acceptance. The morning would bring whatever trouble it would, but at least for this night Jim lived with abandon.  In the cold light of morning, Jim felt a warm body pressed protectively against his own and a large dog pinning his feet to the mattress. He reached to shut off the bedside alarm and realized it wasn’t on his side of the bed. Benny moved to silence it before returning to cuddle against Jim’s back, body slotting as Jim knew it must every morning without fail.  If anything; Jim knew that emotionally; it was going to prove to be an interesting day.

 

Jason Gordon was aware of Jim’s gaze upon him as they met with their paralegals for an update upon client cases and court dates. Jim was paying little attention to what was said; if he heard at all; and was too preoccupied with absorbing every nuance of Jason’s movements or tone to be bothered with words. His point was further proved when the meeting concluded and everyone was filing out of the office save Jim and himself. Beaming affectionately at his son Jason reached out to touch Jim’s arm.

 

“Is there anything that you’d like to discuss privately, James?”

 

Jim shook himself from his reverie. “I’m sorry I was just,” Jim paused and returned his father’s warm smile with a slightly shadowed one. “remembering when I was kid, just how larger than life you were to me. You were always my personal superhero; someone I aspired to be.”

 

His words touched Jason profoundly and although his father tried to fob off the sentiment, Jim could see it shining raw in his darker blue gaze.  “You do me too great a service.” Jason tugged at Jim’s arm to pull him into a brief embrace. “But as a father you make me proud as well. Thank you, son.” Jim clung to his father and closed his eyes. This was surely what heaven must be like; to be surrounded by the love of those you valued most; to be appreciated and accepted. Jim never wanted to let go yet soon enough Jason gently severed the embrace, his loving eyes searching Jim’s features before he patted his shoulders and returned to his desk.  “I have a client lunch today, which I would like you to attend. If you would please.”

 

Jim’s smile faded a little. He had been hoping to ring Harvey and arrange to spend their meal break together, but to refuse Jason now seemed impossible.  “Of course. I’d like that.”

 

The next two weeks progressed much the same; Jim spent as many spare moments as he could with Harvey, but not so much that he neglected Benny or his obligations at the firm. He even managed to squeeze a little one on one time in with his father away from the office, a top priority to him just as Harvey was.  Jim felt himself setting into his new life and routine, and by two months along he had integrated Harvey into his social circle, all be it a little awkwardly when it came to the introductions with Benny. The entire time Jim felt as if he were betraying one man by interacting with the other, when truly he had made no sexual overtures to Harvey; nor received any in return.

 

If anything, the contrast of the two males side by side starkly reminded Jim that he must find a way to return to his own timeline where he was a cop instead of a lawyer. Yet that in and of itself grew increasingly problematic. Never mind he had no way of facilitating the transition, there was little incentive for him to return save one. In this realm he had his father, a happy marriage and was making a readily visible contribution to the betterment of Gotham. He even had Harvey’s friendship and there in lay the crux of his torment: With the exception of his altered relationship with Harvey, he preferred everything else in his stolen life to the one he left empty behind.

 

His relationship with the second Harvey wasn’t as intimate as the one he had previously held.  While he invested time and effort to shape it into a replica of what he had, he was beginning to realize that the Harvey of this world was indeed different. He wasn’t **his** Harvey and that in and of itself was crushing. Yet did it weigh enough in the balance against surrendering to his new and improved life? In the Gotham Jim knew there was no happy marriage, to Benny or Leslie. There was only a void of loneliness that Harvey made tolerable. Bearable only because on the darkest of nights and rawest of fantasies Jim could permit himself to wish, that maybe; just maybe; he and Harvey could be more than just friends. He always felt guilty about the impulse the following day. He buried the feelings and berated himself silently for his stupidity until the course of the day erased the previous night from memory.  Love, his father, ideal marriage, job or not; Jim needed to return to the life he had built and therefore belonged in.

 

 _Frontoparietal_.  It was a word Harvey had to ask for explanation from the doctor.  The take away he had come down too was it was the part of the brain located in the frontal lobe, which was responsible for personality and intelligence.  Knowledge that now struck fear into Harvey’s heart so sharp it stole the breath from him and made his knees buckle. He sat down on a hard, plastic chair and held his head in his hands trying to will away the pain while he squeezed his eyes shut. The fucker had hit Jim with a lead pipe and damaged that area of the brain, no question. What they didn’t know was what the extent of the injury had done; and wouldn’t until Jim had regained consciousness and could be tested.  Harvey didn’t feel so guilty that he emptied a couple of rounds in the bastard now. He wished he had used his bare hands to tear the fucker apart; but in the moment, he had his gun, the scumbag had a weapon and Jim was laying on the ground bleeding.  So much blood; and there would be an ugly scar upon his forehead where the skull had burst through the thin flesh, and the surgeons had operated and closed around replacement materials.

 

Harvey didn’t want to leave Jim’s side for an instant, but duty at the GCPD eventually called, and it was up to him as acting Captain to answer.  Once back at the precinct, he would make the difficult phone call to Jim’s mother and politely request her to fly out from her condo in Miami Beach back to Gotham. He suspected she would come, but not until the following day when either one of two things happened: she could get a flight or Jim had regained consciousness. He knew that she and Jim weren’t close since the death of his father, but Jason Gordon’s passing had altered so much in the family once he was gone. Sons and mothers fell out, brothers gave up trying with one another, and Jim considered himself a lone beacon of over compensation in his darkest hours. He had staunchly believed if he filled his time with charity and service to others, then he wouldn’t have to be alone with the reality of how much he missed his father; and how much it had changed him for the worst.

 

Changed him: Harvey wondered just what was altered in Jim now. Would Jim have to learn basic education topics all over again? Would he be even more of an angry man then he already was? Harvey had read somewhere that often head injuries took compassionate, tender souls and transformed them into raving, abusive, assholes. How much of the Jim he knew would be lost to the trauma his brain had suffered? Would Jim have the intellect enough to continue being a police detective? To learn skills at a technical college if he couldn’t? Would they even be friends and brothers any longer?  Harvey couldn’t think of that now. All he wanted was to be beside Jim’s hospital bed but he was forced to remain at his desk. Life would go on even if Jim Gordon; as Harvey knew him; wouldn’t.

 

When Jim regained consciousness a nurse he had endeared himself to called him at work to let him know. Nora Gordon was with him and Harvey abandoned a budget meeting with his superiors exclaiming that ‘no money plus no money equals no money, I got it!’ before hurrying from the room. He used the siren and lights to make it to Gotham General even faster and wasn’t ashamed of his blatant use of police power for his personal advantage. His need far outweighed his sense at this point and no one was going to stand in his way of seeing Jim. Except Nora Gordon had given strict instructions to the hospital staff to bar all police presence at Jim’s bedside. No one with the exception of herself, was to be allowed access to him.  Harvey was escorted off the floor by hospital security staff and consoled in the parking lot by actual GCPD uniformed officers that had taken the call. Harvey furiously dialed Nora Gordon’s cell phone and yelled some not very gentlemanly like things into her voice mail before slinking back to the budget meeting and the suspicious looks of his colleagues weighing heavily upon him.  He was gearing up to sneak over that evening to the hospital when a triple homicide call changed everything, and by one a.m. he was eating dinner and dozed off in his meal twice before conceding defeat and electing to catch a couple of hours of sleep before returning to the hospital. He was going to see Jim, damn it and to hell with Nora Gordon and all her fanciful good intentions.

 

For Jim’s part his consciousness was superficial at best, he had groaned, his eyes shifted back and forth beneath his eyelids but he had neither spoke nor opened his eyes. He remained steadfast asleep until almost two in the morning when his eyes popped open and he was extremely disoriented for half an hour before a nurse on staff came into check his vitals and informed him of the largest pieces of the puzzle. He had been injured chasing after a suspect and undergone surgery. He was now recovering in Gotham General and his mother was in town and his only allotted visitor. The doctor; apparently; would speak with him in the morning. Left on his own to rest, Jim ran the nurse’s words over within his mind several times. Nora; his mother. That meant his father was dead and everything had been a trick of his mind. There was no Jason Gordon; no law firm; no husband and golden life. However, there was one thing he did have and that was Harvey: **his** Harvey. A child like excitement gripped Jim and he rose from the bed and carefully dressed, taking even more care to pull the I.V. stint out of his arm. He needed to get to Harvey and he needed to see him before another second ticked by. Sneaking past the nurse’s station was a practice in patience, yet it well paid off as Jim took the stairs down to the first-floor lobby and main entrance parking lot. There he found an on-duty cab and recited Harvey’s apartment address before he had even pulled the door closed behind him. He over paid for the ride as he didn’t have any bills smaller than a twenty, and was feeling a little weak legged as he made it to the building’s intermittently working elevator. Fortunately for Jim this was one night the damned thing was operational. He slowly walked down the hallway to Harvey’s door, using the wall to help steady himself. He knew he must look a fright with his head bandaged as it was and a hospital gown as a shirt to his suit trousers and jacket, but he was near Harvey and that was all that mattered.  Jim raised a fist and knocked hard upon Harvey’s front door.

 

He heard Harvey swear and grumble what seemed like a moment later the door was yanked open, Harvey’s expression lax and shocked. He wore his suit trousers, undershirt, socks and dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the front open. He was rumpled and had obviously slept in his clothes, but the dark circles under his eyes bespoke that he had barely slept at all. His mouth was open and Jim smiled dumbly at him before Harvey’s voice croaked and he asked,

 

“Jim?”

 

“Hey Harv.” Jim greeted softly though with honest happiness. “I’m sorry I woke you but, can I come in for a minute please?”

 

“Yeah, yeah! Of course. Get in here.” Harvey stepped back from the doorframe and watched Jim stride over the threshold into his apartment and give the place a cursory once over with his gaze. He seemed genuinely pleased with what he saw and before Harvey could ask why his mind caught up with the situation. “Jim, god!” Harvey gently but firmly, grabbed Jim by the upper arms. “What the hell are you doing here? We need to get you back to the hospital. You shouldn’t be here.”

 

“I know. I know that.” Jim assured touching Harvey’s arms with his own hands mirroring his friend’s physicality. “I’ll go, but I just had to see you. To tell you. It was too important to leave a minute longer.”

 

“Okay, what’s so important you gotta come half way across the city at two in the morning to talk to me? I was gonna go to your room tonight when I was sure your Mom was gone, but there was this homicide and- it’s not really- all’s I’m trying to say is, I was coming to you if you had just waited another few hours where it was **safe**. You know, in the _hospital_?”

 

Jim shook his head and swayed a little but Harvey quickly steadied him. “Can I sit down?”

 

“Yeah, right over here.” Harvey lead him to the sofa and allowed Jim to lean some of his weight upon him. Once Jim was seated Harvey stood before him, hands upon his hips, expression agitated and worried. “You look pale.”

 

“Just let me say what I came here to say and then you can take me back to the hospital.” Jim smirked upon stating. He could tell that Harvey was nervous and wanted to fuss over him like a mother hen; as Harriet had and the thought warmed him instantly that Harvey cared so much about him. Jim raised his stare to Harvey’s and tenderly admitted, “I love you. I’ve never been in love with anyone in my life the way I’m in love with you. I don’t want to be without you anymore. No matter what happens, I want to know that you’ll be right alongside me holding my hand.” Jim shrugged and searched Harvey’s impassive features. “That’s all I wanted to say. We can go to the hospital now.”

 

Harvey, slack jawed and in utter shock slowly lowered himself down to his knees. He gripped the couch, coffee table, anything within reach to help steady his descent.  Chest heaving with silent gasps of breath he searched Jim’s features to see if this were some dream he never wanted to wake up from or reality. Deciding it was neither and merely the head injury speaking, disappointment crushed Harvey internally and he reached out with his hands and rest them on Jim’s knees.

 

“Junior; buddy the extent of the damage to your brain,”

 

Frustration flared behind Jim’s gaze. “This **isn’t** _about_ what happened to me. This is _about_ how I **feel**. How I felt before we chased Holder down that alley.” Jim placed his hands upon Harvey’s and squeezed them, his gaze wide and pleading. “Harvey, I **love** you. How can you not understand that?”

 

“Because,” Harvey whispered unable to steady the tremble of his voice. “I’ve been in love with you since the first month we were partnered together and I **never** dreamed that you would love me too.”

 

Jim grinned, the action a little lopsided and goofy. He reached up with one of his hands and pushed back a little of Harvey’s hair from his face. “How could I **not**?” His features saddened. “I’m sorry it took me so long after Leslie to tell you. After the baby, and Blackgate, I was so lost. But the one person I could always count on to find me was you.” Jim leaned forward and placed a kiss upon the tip of Harvey’s nose and sat back once more.  “Forgive me?”

 

“Oh Baby,” Harvey huffed through a chuckle of relief. “I could never stay mad at you for longer than an hour. My heart couldn’t take any more.”

 

Jim squeezed Harvey’s hands. “Will your heart let me kiss you now?”

 

“You never have to ask me that question.” Harvey vowed pulling one hand gently out from underneath Jim’s and placing it on the back of the younger male’s neck. “C’mere.”  Harvey’s lips tenderly pulled at Jim’s and then they were kissing, sweet and reverent. Jim was shaking a little in Harvey’s arms and Harvey never wanted the kiss to end; and it was more than apparent to him that Jim felt the same. Yet eventually they withdrew and Harvey considered Jim’s pale features and saw pain there.  “We need to get you back to Gotham General **now**.”

 

“Yeah.” Jim agreed as Harvey helped him sit back upon the couch. “I don’t feel very well.”

 

Worry creased Harvey’s forehead and he backed away quickly to the bedroom. “Let me grab a clean shirt and my shoes. I’ll drive you back. Hold on a sec.” He was gone and back in less time than it took for Jim to close his eyes and get the room to stop spinning. He wondered if it were just Harvey’s kiss he was light headed from and regretfully decided he wasn’t. “C’mon Jim.” Harvey issued tenderly as he helped his new lover to stand. “Nice and easy.”

 

It took them ten minutes to get Jim back down to the car and Harvey navigated the streets at higher speeds as the traffic was light. It was another hour before Jim was in a fresh hospital gown, in bed in his room with a new I.V. started upon his opposite arm. Harvey sat next to the bed holding his other hand and they talked quietly when Harvey wasn’t dozing or watching Jim sleep.  Now able to advocate for himself Jim could lift the GCPD ban on visitation and got Harvey’s name placed at the top of the approval list. Jim was awakened by a gentle kiss to his cheek and the scratch of whiskers upon his skin. When his eyes fluttered open he smiled at seeing Harvey standing at his bedside.

 

“I gotta go to work. Breakfast and your mother should be here soon. Can I see you later this afternoon? I have a meeting but after that I can swing by for a few minutes to tide you over until after my shift.”

 

“I’d like that.” Jim said touching Harvey’s face and kissing him in return. He petted Harvey’s beard wishfully and said, “I love you. Stay safe today and don’t ever let my mother push you around again. You have a right to be here just as much as she does.”

 

“I’ll remember that.” Harvey promised taking Jim’s caressing hand in his own to stop him, and pulled away. “You just get better, and call or text me if anything upsets you. All right?”

 

“I promise.” Jim smiled and watched Harvey reluctantly move to the room door, and after a quick glance back at Jim he was gone.

 

At peace with Harvey, now all Jim had to worry about was what the doctor would say about the damage sustained by his brain. There would be tests and while Jim wasn’t looking forward to them he wasn’t particularly stressed out about them either. He could only do so much to whether what was essentially out of his purview of control. In the meantime, he would be a little dependent upon others as well as the mercy of time.  In all, he didn’t think it was such a bad place to be if Harvey were by his side, he could face anything life threw at him. Lead pipes and all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Perchance He’s Living - ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12275115) by [deawrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites)




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